Wish You Were Here, Baby Poem by Nicola Robinsonova

You've become a statistic, not a tragedy
A collection of cells and not a possibility
Hope was a luxury we knew we could not afford,
but still, but still... we wanted you.
We're sad our lives we could not share with you
I'm sad that life I could not give to you
The two bar blues, just one bar blue.
Blue, blue, baby blue.
Blue like the sky on a sunny day
I stand outside with my back to the sun
and wait for you to drip away.